Journalism Class - Thursday December 15

[jerusalem-s.livejournal.com]

There is a defensive line of holly, wound in a manner strongly reminiscent of barbed wire, all around Spider's desk. The desk has been turned around so that the space underneath is visible and Spider himself is folded up in the space, Santa hat squished against the top, knees up by his ears as he types. The cat is sitting atop the desk wearing a set of reindeer antlers and looking disgusted about the entire business.

Spider is wearing a t-shirt that says, 'Elves, they're not just for breakfast anymore' a legend which can be clearly seen when he finally, cautiously emerges. Glaring suspiciously at the class, Santa hat askew, he growled, "Sum up finals week in exactly twenty-five words. Do not wish me any sort of joyous holiday or utter any jovial laughter that consists of one syllable. Attempts to 'de-Scrooge' me will be met with an exam next week. If you are quiet and well-behaved, Friday will be our last day of class and, once I have your final project in my grabby little hands, you'll be free to go."

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[dbiers.livejournal.com]

Having spent most of the week ill and hiding out in her room, D'anna tumbles into class wearing her usual 'Thursdays are for Torture' tee shirt.

Finals week is special form of Earth tribulation wherein professors attempt to torture us by trying to suck our brains out of our heads, throw us into situations where we encounter pirates, amazons, GODS!, frogs, harpies, gorgons, elves, sausagesinnabun - things which ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO EXIST THANK YOU, and otherwise push us to the brink of maddness under the guise of seeing how much we've learnt this term.